At long last, the second volume of
Aluminum Group's supposed album trilogy is here. And, if at all possible,
Morehappyness is even more burnished a pop bauble than the Chicago group's existing portfolio -- it's an immaculately kept haircut, china-white skin with no blemishes to speak of. Frank Navin and John Navin,
AG's gallant formal-wear model principals, lounge languidly in a fancy foreign coupe. Nonchalantly they eat Italian beefs, ignoring the constant threat of the sandwiches dripping greasy gravy all over the coupe's flawless white leather interior. "Silly goose," they snort without words. "That would never happen in our lives." And, staring into the groomed, opaque nexus of
Morehappyness, you believe them. Lush, arch, pristine, droll, detached, flickering, synthetic -- these are
Aluminum Group descriptors. The words walk -- glide -- in the grooves emanating from the ever-percolating synthesizers of John McEntire, the gently chiming electric guitars, and the heavy-cream vocal harmonies of
the Navins themselves. The brothers sell a couplet like "Some say that youth is wasted on nothing/I say that youth is wasted on nothing" in the twitch of an eyebrow. There's no difference in their inflection, but there's a difference in their inflection. "Snowflake," the single "Motorcycles," and "W/O the Erte" are full of subtle yet chilly dance beats; there's a bit of
Air's influence here, but the mood is utterly different, definitely darker.
Morehappyness' quieter songs might be even more powerful than the album's shiny cold bits of insular cocktail electronica. "Colored Town" is halting, with cryptic lyrics ("Critique my cheap pirouette sublime, will you"), barely perceptible programming, and the brushed strings of an acoustic guitar. The song unfolds at a volume somewhere just above a whisper, but it never seems incapable of ensnaring your heart in steely razor-wire.
Morehappyness is effortless affectation. ~ Johnny Loftus